Cynical
by Singtoangels1
Summary: Faith can feel her bonds slipping W/F


Title: Cynical  
Authour: Sing to Angels  
Date: 29th March, 2002  
Disclaimers: Ok everybody, lets sing a song. *The authour of this story, does not own   
A:ts, Joss Wedon, Grr Argh, or anything but a couple of toques,  
some knives, and a crappy pastry bag*  
Spoilers: Sleep Tight and Five by Five  
Dedication: To Mama Lizard, who always helps me brainstorm when I'm blocked.  
Feedback: Oh boy do I need this! Please send feedback, especially considering that this   
is the first A:ts fic I've written. Thanks  
Distribution: My site, Shipper Dreams. All others please ask.  
  
  
  
  
  
He was dying.  
  
Alone in her cell, Faith stared at the grey, peeling walls. She tried to ignore the horrible   
pain deep in the pit of her stomach. The bond wasn't supposed to be this close, and it   
never had been until she tried to kill him. With every shallow slice and burn, the link   
grew stronger. It had incensed her, made her even more passionate with anger and the   
fear she could smell coming from her hands. Her very own hands which were clenched   
so tightly that blood pooled in the well of her palm.  
  
It wasn't supposed to be this way, Faith thought as she looked up at the crack of moonlight   
coming from a box they euphemistically referred to as a window in this dump. He was out   
there, bleeding blackened silver rain down in the grass. Yeah, real poetic. Faith had had time   
to read and educate herself since her incarceration. If he hadn't hated her so much, he might   
have been proud. But that didn't matter now; he was dying.  
  
It wasn't fair. She had worked so hard, hoping someday to earn some shred of forgiveness, a   
curt nod, anything but the look of peace that floated through her mind. Fight it, Wes. Fight   
it damn you. Don't give in just cause you're tired, that's what it's all about. You gotta fight to   
die, now fight to live.  
  
She shouldn't care. God knows he wouldn't if she lay dying somewhere unredeemed. But these   
damn Slayer genes, well, they had something else in mind. There was supposed to be a bond,   
between Watcher and Slayer. She and the English Patient never had it before. Then she tries   
to kill him and there it is. All mystical and glowy and waiting to pounce on her like a ton of bricks.  
  
He could feel it too, she knew he could. He was thinking about her now, how he was just like   
her, and he had failed. Failed her? F#ck, it's a two way street ya know. After all, she was the   
original bad seed. The wild child. Nobody could have tamed her down. At least not anybody but   
the good ol' California correctional system. Even they only helped so much. The burn for a good   
slay was still rampant in her blood. The fire of every kill was raging inside. Kill, slay; two totally   
different animals, gotta remember that. Demons, slay. Humans, kill. Killing bad, slaying...good?  
  
His breathing is shallow now. Not dead yet, but might as well be. He had given up the ghost and   
lay there, just waiting for the end. Accepting, willing, hell, even happy. It pissed her off. Damnit,   
you as#hole, don't give in. Don't leave me alone here, you're all I have. The only voice I hear in the   
night. The only connection to a world that doesn't want me, never did, but I want it. I want it so bad   
that it hurts. Always has hurt. Full of pain. Heaven doesn't want me but Hell does. Yeah, they want   
to see the anguish. I yearn for the light but all I get is a wicked blow. Ain't that a kicker?  
  
She punched the wall with her fist; knuckles quickly smothered themselves in blood as she withdrew   
it from the cracked surface. His heart was slowing down, getting quiet. Just a little beat every few   
seconds. Life's fluid was almost spent into the grass. Faith crossed her limbs over her chest, fingers   
gripping thin upper arms. Come on, come on. You can't go yet; I still need you. Crap, what a baby she  
had become. Needing someone, needing a f#cking English ex Watcher man who wouldn't piss on her   
body if it were in flames. Come on.  
  
Faith's knees buckled and she dropped to the floor with a thud. There it was, what she had been waiting   
for. The other shoe fell, finally. She pounded the floor with her hands until they were bruised and dry like   
his body. That was it, she was alone. Not just a little bit, but one hundred percent alone in this world.   
She crawled along the floor up to the wall and banged her head against it a few times. When blood seeped   
down from her scalp, she stopped.   
  
Turning her head, Faith couldn't see the moon outside of her tiny cell any more. The clouds had enshrouded   
it in their delicate mantles and flown it away. Darkness. Just a lot of darkness. Empty and yawning, waiting   
to swallow her up with hundreds of teeth all gnashing her skin to shreds. Vacant years ahead, nothing to fill   
them with. No voice hidden in the darkness, telling her it would all be ok. Because the world was out there,  
waiting for her. Gonna give her another chance. But none of it was there anymore. It disappeared with the   
voice of her former Watcher, the Englishman, Wesley.  
  
Faith pulled her hands up to trembling cheeks and slowly drew gashes down the sides of her face with   
dull fingernails. Her palms remained pressed against throbbing temples. Oh God, it really happened.   
He's gone. I'm by myself, for real this time. All alone. Oh God.  
  
"Nooooooo!" She screamed into the night. The agony was overtaking her, crushing her. The guards were   
coming. Gotta rough up the prisoner who can't keep her damn trap shut and sleep. Maybe they would   
kill her. Yeah sure, and she would meet Wes on the other side. That would happen. Wes should wind   
up in a nice, cushy Heaven where all the white hats go. And she would go on a screaming joyride   
straight to Hell. Faith had always been of the opinion that where you go in the afterlife is determined   
by how you view yourself in this one. And if that was really the case, well, she knew that Wesley was   
making a room all cosy for her down under.   



End file.
